


Ivy

by iisaax



Series: Inflorescence [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Genderfluid Character, Happy Ending, Light Angst, Marriage Proposal, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Other, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Trans Character, author is gay and doesn't know anything about sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 11:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15885558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iisaax/pseuds/iisaax
Summary: “Steve,” Nat had started, stirring some kind of something. Steve looked up from his bland-ass oat cereal (as Sam likes to call it) and mumbled his acknowledgement through his mouthful. She asked, “When are you going to actually propose to James?”Steve choked. Natasha reached over, one hand still at her saucepan and pat his back.-i·vy/ˈīvē/1. a woody evergreen Eurasian climbing plant2. represents eternity; wedded love and friendship





	Ivy

**Author's Note:**

> Alternative title: Five Times Steve Tried to Propose (And the One Time Bucky Did)
> 
> Hope you enjoy :'-)

Steve got the first idea from Natasha.

They were the only ones in the communal kitchen, Steve having been visiting for once. Bucky was busy training with Bruce, or maybe Clint; he can’t quite remember. Natasha was cooking at the stove, and the room was filled with the scent of cinnamon and spice.

“Steve,” Nat had started, stirring some kind of something. Steve looked up from his bland-ass oat cereal (as Sam likes to call it) and mumbled his acknowledgement through his mouthful. She asked, “When are you going to actually propose to James?”

Steve choked. Natasha reached over, one hand still at her saucepan and pat his back.

“Excuse me?” he eventually managed, wiping milk off his chin.

“You heard me,” she went back to stirring. “When are you going to propose to James?”

Steve looked around, but luckily they really were alone. “Could you maybe be a little quieter?” he hissed.

Natasha simply shrugged, a small smile pulling at her lips. She didn’t speak for a while, so Steve cautiously went back to his breakfast. Then, “We’re all ready.”

Steve paused mid-bite, and set his spoon back down. “Who is ready?” he squinted.

She shrugged again. “Everybody. It’s bound to happen.”

“I’m…waiting for the right time.”

Natasha laughed a little at that. “How long are you planning to wait? Another hundred years?”

“No,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms like a kid. “Maybe…I don’t know…another year?”

“Oh, stop being so old-fashioned,” she waved a hand at him. “You know they’re ready, too.”

“And how do you know that?”

Natasha gave him a look. “Come on. Have you _seen_ their Pinterest? It’s _all_ wedding dresses.”

Bucky in a wedding dress… Steve colored a bit. Okay, maybe he _was_ taking it too slow. “Well how do you think I should do it?”

“Hm,” Natasha hummed. She deemed her something-or-other ready and took it off the stove, moving to pour it over another pan. “It definitely has to be big. To make up for all this time you’ve been putting it off.”

“I have not been _putting it off_. Like I said, I’m just waiting for the best time.” Steve went back to his cereal and added through another mouthful, “And what do you mean by big?”

“You know, fireworks, doves, all that jazz. It needs to be special. Do you have a ring?”

Steve blushed again, and suddenly his bland-ass oats were _really_ interesting.

Natasha stepped away from the stove and put a hand on her hip. “Steve,” she said softly. “How long?”

Steve tried to hide in his own shoulders, “1936.”

Natasha sighed. “And you’ve waited this long?”

“It was my ma’s,” Steve explained, filling his spoon with milk then pouring it back out. “She wanted me to save it for them. For Bucky. And I…” Steve sniffed. “Never got the chance.”

Natasha paused her cooking and came over to sit at the table with Steve. She touched his hand gently. Steve smiled sadly and took it, squeezing.

“Stupid, right? I’ve had it for that long and I still can’t find the guts to ask ‘em.”

“It’s not stupid,” she assured him, rubbing a small thumb over his wrist. “A little silly, but it’s not stupid.”

Steve smiled again, pushing his cereal away so he could pull Nat into a hug.

“That just means it really does need to be special,” she said over his shoulder. She pulled back. “Have any ideas?”

“No,” Steve admitted. “None. Nothing seems right.”

“How about you start with what you two have in common? Is there anything you both like doing together?”

Steve pursed his lips. “I can think of somethin’.”

-

“What’s the occasion?”

Steve shrugged, trying his best to look nonchalant. “It seems fun.”

Bucky made a considering face, flipping over the tickets in their hand.

“It’s no Dodgers,” he quickly adds. “But the Mets aren’t so bad.”

Bucky smiles at that, turning the tickets back over. They look up, grinning. “Sure, why not?”

So one short trip and way too many stairs later, Bucky and Steve sat down in their seats. Steve would have liked to have them sit a little closer to the actual field, but it would have to do. Bucky set down their purse in their seat and asked in a glance if Steve wanted anything from the concession stand.

Steve shook his head, legs bouncing. Once Bucky began the trek back down the stairs, Steve pulled the ring box out of his pocket and stared at it for a while. He opened it, and the diamond glinted in the sunlight. His ma had tried to sell the jewel several times but Steve stopped her every time, but she mysteriously stopped trying once she met Bucky. Steve smiled a bit at the memory and turned the box so the sun hit it again. He closed the box and tucked it back into the depths of his pocket, anxiety satiated a bit. Then, he happened to glance up at the scoreboard and it came right back. He reached back into his other pocket for his phone and sent a quick text.

_Are you sure this is a good idea? Maybe the screen is a bit much?_

Nat responded immediately.

 _yes!_ _shared life experience! ))_

_If you say so._

Steve pocketed his phone just as Bucky returned with three hot dogs, a coke, and a pretzel.

“Oh,” Steve said, taking a few items from them as they juggled to move their purse. “I thought you knew I didn’t want anything.”

Bucky sat down, and took the food back. “I know,” they raised their eyebrows, then took a huge bite of one of the hot dogs.

Steve laughed despite himself and ignored the buzzing at his thigh.

They watched the game for a long while, Bucky getting probably way too into it, nearly sending the other hot dogs flying whenever they shot out of their seat to cheer. They sat back down after a particularly loud burst, and grinned over at Steve. Steve momentarily forgot why there were even there, and smiled back like a dope. He was reminded soon enough, though, when the seventh inning crept closer and closer. His legs started bouncing again.

Bucky had just finished their pretzel when the rain first started to fall.

Assuring him it was nothing when Steve started to panic, Bucky stood to head back to the concessions. Then, they frowned. “Do you feel-”

There was a snap as lightning struck the field, then a deafening peal of thunder. Bucky nearly dropped their drink, and went to say something, but was quickly drowned out by the sound of rain hitting the awning they were under.

Steve groaned.His phone buzzed again. He checked it, scowling, and noticed several more texts from Nat.

_have u checked the weather?_

_im checking now_

_shit its gonna thunderstorm (_

_abort abort_

_steve_

_steve answer me_

Sighing, Steve replied as he got up from his seat.

_It just started over here. Any more ideas?_

“Ah, well,” Bucky said, shouldering their purse. “What now?”

Steve shrugged, feeling more than upset at the change of plans.

Bucky seemed to notice, and put a hand on his cheek. “Don’t be sad, Stevie. We can come back some other game. Wanna head to a diner or somethin’?”

Steve cracked a smile. “How can you still be hungry?”

It was Bucky’s turn to shrug, grinning and pulling him in a for a quick kiss. Steve kissed them back, pushing down his disappointment. He would just have to wait a little longer.

-

He got the second idea from Clint.

The two of them were sparring in the training room, and Steve kept getting distracted and taking hits. On the third punch to his nose, Clint took a step back.

“Dude. You feeling alright? I suck at hand-to-hand and I’m kinda kicking your ass right now.”

Steve sighed, nodding and pressing a hand to his nose to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. “Yeah, sorry. Just thinkin’ about other stuff.”

Clint hummed, pausing to take a sip of water. “S’it about Bucky?” he asked.

Steve blinked. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“Nat told me you were planning to ask ‘em to marry you at a baseball game. Figured it didn’t work out.”

Steve smiled sadly, picking up his own drink. “Understatement of the year. Got any other ideas?”

“Actually, yeah.” Clint capped his water and wiped his mouth. “How ‘bout you go to Coney Island? Didn’t you guys used to go there a lot? You could hop on the ferris wheel and pop the question up top. It would be romantic as shit.”

Steve slowly lowered his bottle. “That’s…not a bad idea.”

Clint laughed. “What, you think I don’t have any good ideas?”

Steve cracked a smile, huffing a laugh. “You know what I mean,” he said. “...Say, how late are they open nowadays?”

-

As soon as they got there, Bucky immediately pulled him towards the Cyclone. Steve laughed, and let himself be pulled.

He managed not to get sick this time, but it was still brutal, and they both sat down hard on the benches just outside the ride. Bucky reached over for their bag and Steve handed it to them. They rifled through the several packages of snacks they snuck in and grabbed their water bottle.

Steve picked out some kind of caramel somethings and started eating them, looking out at the crowd of people. There was a surprising amount of people there for how dark it was outside, and Steve people-watched for a bit. He could see the ferris wheel turning in the distance, and the box in his pocket seemed heavier than ever.

“Hey,” he started, then cleared his throat when it came out a little strangled. “Wanna ride the ferris wheel?”

Bucky looked over at Steve and grinned. “Why, you wanna kiss at the top?”

Steve shrugged, smiling not quite all the way to his eyes. “Maybe.”

If Bucky noticed his nerves, they didn’t say anything, and put their water bottle back in their bag and stood, offering out their hand. “Then let’s go.”

Steve wiped his hand on his jeans then took theirs, and followed them across the park to the ferris wheel. He stared down at the ground as they walked, trying to go over what he wrote out to say to them. Did the part about dancing come before or after the part about being sick? He hardly noticed Buck had stopped until he nearly went off without them, only being pulled back by his arm. He looked back at them, frowning, then followed their gaze to the base of the wheel.

Attendants were roping it off. “Routine maintenance,” one of them explained to a fuming lady. “We apologize for any inconvenience.”

Yeah. Inconvenience. Steve gripped Bucky’s hand.

Bucky squeezed back. “Sorry, pal. Wanna head to the Thunderbolt instead?”

Steve nodded, not trusting his voice not to break.

-

He got the third idea from Sam.

They were just starting their movie at his place (“What do you mean you’ve never seen ‘Birdemic: Shock and Terror’?? Add it to the list!”) and Steve was having trouble focusing on the trainwreck happening on-screen. He had to say, though, the special effects were pretty good. He told Sam as such, and he just laughed.

“Are you kidding me? This is the worst shit ever. Just wait until we get to the bird acid.”

Steve agreed to disagree, and stole another handful of popcorn, mind still elsewhere. Sam eventually seemed to notice, and paused the movie. He turned to Steve, and tilted his head in his I’m-about-to-switch-into-counselor-mode way.

“You okay, Cap?”

Steve shrugged, worrying a thumb over the edge of the blanket Sam gave him to use. “Yeah.”

“You sure? You can tell me if something’s wrong.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek. “It’s just…”

Sam set aside the popcorn and scooted closer to the couch from where he was sitting on the floor. He clasped his hands and looked at him with an open, accepting expression. It was hard _not_ to vent to him.

Steve sighed, “I’ve been trying to propose to Buck. And nothing seems to be working out.”

“You mean they’re saying no?”

“No…everytime I try to even say anything, something goes wrong and I don’t get the chance.”

Sam tilted his head again.

“I’m just frustrated, because I want it to be perfect. I guess.”

Sam nodded. “I mean, that’s understandable. You’ve waited this long; it kinda has to be.”

“Yeah, Nat said the same thing. Ugh,” Steve shifted so his leg was tucked under him. “I’m running out of ideas.”

“Hm.” Sam thought on it for a bit. Then, “How about just a nice dinner? Y’know, keep it classy. You have some wine, maybe there’s candles, then you get on one knee after dessert…”

It was Steve’s turn to think, still playing with the blanket. “That could work. Know any good restaurants?”

-

“Stevie…”

“No,” Steve waved them off. “It’s been awhile since I treated you to somethin’ nice like this. Lemme pay for it.”

Bucky huffed, but put away their wallet. Steve finished thumbing out his paper money, trying not to ogle at the price - forty for a steak?? - and added a generous tip. It would hopefully be worth every penny once dessert got there. He had called ahead, explaining the situation and requesting they write a message on the plate. Surely this would work.

The server quickly took the ticket and rushed off somewhere. Bucky rolled their eyes, sipping their wine through a smile. They were on their second glass, and their lips were stained a deep pink. Not that Steve was staring or anything.

He pocketed his own wallet. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Do you need to head home?”

“I”m tellin’ you, the fish tasted fine,” they assured him, although they did look a bit pale. Steve eyed them warily as the server returned.

“Would you gentlemen like to add any dessert this evening?” the server asked.

Bucky, bless them, didn’t flinch at the misgender and smiled over at Steve, a little tight. “Did you wanna get some?”

“Sure,” Steve said, ever-so nonchalant. He turned to the server. “How is your lava cake?”

The server, not the best actor, nodded eagerly. “I highly recommend it.”

Steve pretended to think it over, then said, “We’ll take some.”

The server took their plates, then rushed off again. Steve took a nervous sip of water, then glanced up at Bucky. They were paler than ever.

He frowned. “Buck?”

They gave a quick half-hearted smile, then swallowed. They smoothed their hair back, hand shaking a bit. They swallowed again.

Steve frowned some more. “Bucky?”

Bucky started to speak, then lurched a bit, clapping a hand over their mouth. They scrambled out of their seat, speed-walking to the bathroom. Steve stood to follow, and they waved him away, breaking into a jog. Steve sat back down, sighing. He grabbed his coat and Buck’s purse, and headed to the bathroom. It looked like he’d have to wait again.

-

He got the fourth idea from Tony, surprisingly enough.

Steve was moping in the training floor of the tower, on his third punching bag - he had knocked down the others - and trying his damned hardest not to let his emotions show. It must have been obvious, though, because by the time he got to a fourth, Tony walked in and immediately scoffed at him.

“J said you’d be down here. Could you maybe, ah, _stop_ destroying all my punching bags? We have a limited supply, you know,” he brushed past Steve, acting like he wasn’t just there for him, and started messing with his hair in the mirror.

Steve knocked down the bag with one last punch, and Tony sighed. He turned and crossed his arms, hair sticking out at all sorts of angles.

“What’s got your grannie panties in a bunch?” he asked.

Steve shook his hand out and frowned. Should he tell Tony? He _was_ getting a little desperate at this point. “I’m, uh, trying to propose to Buck.”

“Ooh,” Tony moved a large cube to underneath him and sat down. “Not to sound too eager, but. Do tell.”

Steve sighed, already regretting his decision to tell him. Too late now. “I’ve been trying to ask for weeks now. Everything keeps going wrong.”

Tony nodded, like he expected Steve to ruin everything everytime. “What have you tried? Just curious.”

“Well, I took them to a ballgame…and to Coney Island…and out to dinner…”

Tony frowned. “That’s it? No sky-writing? Marching band?” Steve shook his head. “Hundred man chorus? How about a screen in Times Square?”

“No, Tony.”

“Have you tried a… Uh, what did you used to have? Drive-in movies?”

Steve paused unwrapping his hands. That... wasn’t a bad idea. Not that he would ever tell Tony that. He grabbed his gym bag and headed to the door.

“Flash mob?” Tony called after him. “I know a guy!”

-

After parking, Steve sighed and smiled over at Buck. They were already fluffing out their blanket and getting situated. Surely. _Surely_ this time would work.

As Bucky propped their feet up on the dash, Steve took out his phone and checked for texts.

_how is operation propose-to-james going? do u need backup? ha ha_

_did ferris wheel wrk?????_

_scratch the dinner idea -- u should send them a carrier pigeon w bird flu ;)_

_no but srsly the ferris wheel_

_caaap hte ferris wheel_

“What was this movie about?”

He put his phone away and looked over towards Bucky. They were currently in a blanket burrito, with one arm out to hold their slushie as they sipped it.

“Uh, some documentary? About me,” he answered.

Bucky laughed. “Wow. Conceited, much?”

Steve nudged their burrito and got nudged back with another laugh. It quickly dissolved into a wrestling match, until Steve’s knee hit the steering wheel and the horn that sounded nearly gave them both a heart attack.

They leaned on each other over the center console and watched the opening credits. The movie started with a long paragraph about Steve’s early life that Steve couldn’t care less about but Bucky read to loudly point out inaccuracies.

As the movie went on, Steve’s palms started to sweat, and his heart rate went up. The ring threatened to burn a hole in his pocket. Any minute now, the final scene would play where Tony had begrudgingly forced the people in charge of the drive-in to add something cheesy about staying together until the end of the line. Steve wasn’t even sure what exactly it would say, but he had to trust Tony’s judgement (a stupid move, but he really was getting desperate).

At some point, Steve shifted and his knee hit the horn again, causing Bucky to jump and spill the contents of their slushie all over themself.

“Fuck,” they cried, scooting back in their seat to try and escape the ice. “Fuck, that’s _cold_! Help me out?” They reached out a hand for some napkins. Steve shoved some napkins in their hand and looked frantically up at the screen. Wasn’t Tony’s addition right after this scene?

When the ice soaked through the burrito further into their lap, Bucky got out of the car and stood. There was a huge wet spot right down the front of their sweatpants, and they groaned.

“Crap. I’m, uh, gonna head to the restroom. I think I brought some…” they grabbed their bag and waddled away towards the port-a-potties. Steve leaned his head back against the headrest and stared up at the stars, cursing his life as the question popped up on-screen surrounded by American flags and hearts and Iron Man heads.

-

Steve got the fifth idea from Bruce.

He was sitting at one of the tables in the tower’s lab, forehead pressed against the glass tabletop, slowly knocking his head and groaning under his breath. The sound of the doors sliding open caused him to lift his head. His last remaining hope walked in, peering curiously at him.

Bruce laughed softly, setting down some folders at his desk. “Do I want to know?”

Steve dropped his head down again, groaning louder.

Bruce came over and sat down, taking off his glasses with a clink. “Something got you down?”

Steve rolled his head to look at Bruce and made his best please-help-me-I’m-dying look.

“That bad?”

Steve nodded, sniffling for effect.

Bruce laughed again, putting his glasses back on. “Tell me how I can help.”

Steve sat up and leaned on a palm, at his point not above venting to everyone he knows. “It’s Bucky. I’ve been trying to ask them to marry me and nothing is working and I’m half to just asking them with a Cracker Jack ring and calling it a day. I mean, everyone’s ideas were great and all, but I’m so fuckin’ sick of all this jumping through hoops and standing on my head!”

Bruce hummed, stroking his chin. “Maybe,” he started meekly. “You should just follow your heart.”

Steve opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. He blinked. Why wasn’t he just following his heart? As cliché as that was, he didn’t really want to do anything but that in the first place. He dropped a hand to where the ring had surely by then carved a spot in his pocket and got up out of his chair. He started towards the door, Bruce chuckling behind him.

-

He finds Buck back in the kitchen, eating at the table with Nat, the room smelling of cinnamon and smoke. They’re laughing at something she said, throwing their head back. Steve steels himself with a deep breath, then enters the room. He strides with purpose over to the table, and drops to his knees beside Bucky’s chair.

They take a moment to notice him, wiping their eyes and giggling. “Oh! Steve! Tasha, tell- Ha! Tell ‘im what you said.”

Steve props one knee up and takes another breath. Bucky’s laughter trails off and they look down at him, lips parting.

“Buck-”

The smoke smell gets stronger, and just as he frowns and looks over towards the oven, the sprinklers in the room get set off and start raining down.

“Shit!” Nat shouts, darting out of her chair. “I forgot about the bread!”

Bucky starts laughing again, harder, and clutching at their stomach. Steve cracks a smile and gets back up. He wipes his wet hair out of his face and holds out a hand to help Bucky from their chair. They take it, still laughing, and stand, nearly slipping on the slick floor.

“Buck,” Steve says again, starting to catch their laughter.

“Stevie,” Bucky replies fake-seriously, gazing up at him through water-speckled lashes.

“Buck.” Steve kneels down again, still gripping their hand. “ _Bucky_.”

Bucky grins, and kneel down as well. They fumble with their pocket. “ _Steve_.”

Wait.

Bucky brings their hand out, revealing a small black box.

 _Wait_.

“Steve,” they say again, eyes sparkling.

Steve stands up, stepping back. “No way. _No way_.”

Bucky opens up the box and laughs, wetly. “Yes way. You were taking too long. Seriously, _five_ times? I’m already goin’ gray over here! How many-”

Steve drags them up to their feet and hugs them. “Jerk,” his voice cracks, and yep, he’s crying. “Ask me already.”

Bucky laughs, voice just as shaky, and breaks away to get back on the floor. They hold out the box, and the ring inside - simple and silver and smooth - glints in the kitchen lights. “Steven Grant Rogers,” they begin. “Will you finally marry me?”

Steve laughs, half-sobbing, and nod about a hundred times. Bucky grins and stand back up, hugging him again. He buries his face in their damp hair and hugs them tight. He hears a few camera clicks from Natasha, who cheers and suspiciously forgets about her bread that totally exists and wasn’t made up in the slightest, but he ignores her, holding onto his fiancé tighter.

And his fiancé squeezes back.

**Author's Note:**

> LAFJSBSKFKDNG;KGN;LK
> 
> That is all. Thanks for reading!! Lmk if you spot any mistakes :-)
> 
> Edit: Fixed something about the baseball game - I know nothing about sports!! Haha
> 
> Plant meaning from [symbolism.wikia.com](http://symbolism.wikia.com/wiki/Ivy)


End file.
